


Clan Lavellan

by ThedasWitch



Series: Shades of Gold [5]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Meet the Family, Meeting the Parents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-04-30 04:26:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5150192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThedasWitch/pseuds/ThedasWitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After defeating Corypheus, the Inquisition has a chance to breathe. Clan Lavellan takes advantage of the peace by inviting their daughter home for the first visit since the Conclave. Inquisitor Lanyla Lavellan sees it as an opportunity to introduce Cullen to the rest of her clan.<br/>But peace can only last so long.<br/>(Rating will go up in later chapters)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Preparation

**Author's Note:**

> This fic takes place after the end of Dragon Age: Inquisition, but before Trespasser.
> 
> "The Wycome Incident" refers to a series of war table operations that starts with "Contact Clan Lavellan" ([wiki](http://dragonage.wikia.com/wiki/Contact_Clan_Lavellan)). There are several possible outcomes for that series of operations, and this fic assumes that the choices allowing Clan Lavellan to survive were made.
> 
> Inquisitor is [Lanyla Lavellan](http://autisticinquisitor.tumblr.com/post/131396216554/inquisitor-questionnaire#notes)

It was almost comical, the way her strong, sure commander could be reduced to a pile of nerves and frustration.

Lanyla giggled to herself, watching him frown in concentration as he repeated the elvish phrases she'd taught him. "Mass ser-ahn-us," he said, his tongue tripping on unfamiliar syllables. "Is that right?"

"Close enough," she replied, reining in her mount to trot beside his. "You know this really isn't necessary. We trade with humans enough that everyone in my clan speaks your language. They won't care that you don't speak elven."

Cullen sighed. "I know. I just... want to make a good impression. For the Inquisition, and... for myself. I want them to approve of me." He met her gaze, tawny eyes uncertain. "To approve of us."

She smiled and reached across the gap to squeeze his leg. "They will. Trust me. They're going to love you. How could they not?"

He quirked an eyebrow at that. "You mean, how could a clan of Dalish elves who sent their best mage away to save the world not like the human Templar she brings back with her?" A smirk played at the corner of his mouth, the scar pulling just slightly at his upper lip. "I can't imagine."

Lanyla rolled her eyes. "Point taken." She met his eyes again, her tone more serious. "But I love you. So they'll have to accept it." Her golden eyes flicked back and forth, searching his gaze as she waited for him to acquiesce. Cullen sighed, but smiled. 

She smiled brightly in response, pleased. "Now," she said, adjusting her grip on the reins. "Still think a Fereldan Forder can outpace an Anderfel Courser?" With a toss of her auburn braid, she spurred her horse into motion, galloping ahead of him on the road. Cullen laughed to himself and followed, urging his mount faster to catch up.

He'd endure far worse for her. Meeting her clan couldn't be that terrible if she felt so strongly.

Right?

 

Lanyla was more worried about the meeting than she would admit to Cullen. Yes, her clan was friendlier with humans than most, and the Inquisition's help in the Wycome incident had helped relations considerably, but there was a difference between accepting humans as allies and having one brought home as her lover.

But she would put on an encouraging smile for him, with a glare reserved for any of her kin who crossed her on it. His attempt elvish, stilted as it was, was endearing. And it was clear that he was trying to honor their customs to the best of his abilities. He'd never mentioned it to her, but before leaving Skyhold she had overheard him consulting with Josephine about what etiquette he should be mindful of. She knew his distaste for pleasantries and diplomacy, and the fact that he was going out of his way to learn what he could made her heart swell with love for him. He was a human, yes, and a Templar, but he was hers and she was prepared to fight even her own clan to keep him close.

Cullen had spent the voyage across the Waking sea interrogating her about what to expect. Lanyla half expected him to ask for written reports and tactics proposals. He prepared for the meeting the way she'd seen him prepare for military campaigns, gathering every piece of available information and plotting strategies for every scenario. She'd taught him a handful of phrases--mostly pleasantries, please, thank you, I am honored to be here, nice to meet you-- that he committed to memory, although his pronunciation still left much to be desired. He was as ready to meet Clan Lavellan as he'd ever be.

She just hoped it was enough.


	2. Contact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lanyla and Cullen arrive at their destination; Cullen meets the first member of her family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> falon’lethallan- friend of my (female) dear friend, friend of my kinswoman. Used to address someone you may not know well, but who is trusted by someone you care for. (Standard lethallan/lethallin distinction, the gender referring in this case to the cared for person).
> 
> (Given how little elven we see in-game, I've had to take some liberties with putting together phrases and vocab of my own. I'll define them in notes whenever I add my own words in)

They made good time on their way to Wycome, not running into any trouble on the road. Their destination was the new semi-permanent location of the Lavellan camp, just outside of the city.

The sun was just starting to dip towards the horizon when Cullen, Lanyla, and their small escort saw the first pair of Clan Lavellan scouts. One ran in the direction of the main camp, and the other approached the riders.

“Is that you, Neela?” he asked, looking past Cullen to examine the Inquisitor. The young man had deep green vallaslin curving across his cheekbones, and he held a bow with the ease of someone who’d spent most of his life carrying one.

“Hanlen!” exclaimed Lanyla. “How are you?” They exchanged pleasantries, speaking almost too quickly for Cullen to follow. Hanlen asked about their horses and the men they’d brought as escort, and Lanyla told him about their voyage from Ferelden.

Hanlen laughed at something she said, then turned to Cullen. “And this must be the commander we’ve heard so much about?” he asked. 

Lanyla flushed pink. “Sorry, introductions. Hanlen, this is Cullen Rutherford, commander of the Inquisition’s forces. Cullen, my cousin, Hanlen Lavellan. His mother is my father’s sister.”

Cullen bowed, as much as he could on horseback, in Hanlen’s direction. Now that Lanyla mentioned their relation, he could see the resemblance between them. Hanlen’s hair was a few shades darker than hers, and his eyes were green to her rich gold, but the shape of them was the same, and they shared the same bright smile.

“A pleasure to meet you,  _ falon’lethallan _ . Any companion of Neela’s is a friend of mine.” He started to walk away, gesturing for them to follow. “This way. They’re going to be thrilled to see you.”

They prodded their horses, keeping pace with Hanlen’s brisk walk. Lanyla kept up a lively conversation with her clansman, more animated than Cullen could remember seeing her in weeks. They talked about people and events he didn’t know; apparently, in the time since Lanyla had last been home, one of their other cousins had found out that she was expecting, three babies had been born, and several young people had received their vallaslin. 

Cullen realized that he liked seeing her like this, happy and at ease. Though Corypheus was gone, the Inquisitor still had constant demands on her time. Even when they were alone, her thoughts were always occupied with what she thought she should be doing. It was good for her, he thought, to have a respite, to visit with the people who loved her.

She looked over at him, gold eyes sparkling. “We’re almost there, I think,” she said. “I can’t wait for you to meet them.

Sure enough, their party soon reached the statues of wolves that, according to Hanlen, marked the boundaries of the territory they’d claimed. Though the Lavellan clan had been officially welcomed by the people of Wycome--and they held a place on the city’s council--most of the elves still preferred living as they always had. Their now-permanent campsite was just beyond the city itself, framed by a small river and surrounded by trees.

Lanyla and Cullen dismounted, sending their horses and escort on to the city proper, where they could rest and resupply. 

Once the Inquisition soldiers had passed beyond the nearest ridge, Hanlen turned to Lanyla. “It’s not far now,” he said. “The Keeper will be so glad to see you.” He eyed Cullen, a knowing grin playing on his lips. “And to meet your shemlen… commander.”

 

As her cousin led the way, Lanyla fell back a few paces to walk beside Cullen. He smiled down at her, though he gripped the hilt of his sword nervously.

“I am sorry,” she said softly, and he looked at her in surprise.

“For what?” he asked, his tone matching hers. Hanlen continued on, either unaware of their quiet conversation or politely ignoring it.

“For introducing you as my commander, and not as…” Lanyla could feel her cheeks growing warmer as she spoke. “Not as what you are to me.” She looked down at the path, away from Cullen’s gaze. “I just… didn’t want to tell them in a letter. I wanted to introduce you in person, so they could meet you before deciding how they felt.” 

Cullen reached out and took her hand, squeezing it. “I understand,” he said, and she looked up to see that his eyes were warm and reassuring, not hurt or offended, as she feared. “I know I’m… not what they would have picked for you.”

Lanyla twined her fingers with his, bringing Cullen’s hand up to press a kiss to his knuckles. “But you’re what  _ I _ picked,  _ vhenan _ ,” she said, and she didn’t release him when they lowered their hands. Squaring her slim shoulders, she looked straight ahead. “And they can make of that what they wish.”

“Are you two done back there?” called Hanlen. “Because if you keep going on like that, it’s going to get harder for me to pretend to be surprised when you announce that the shem is your lover.” Looking back over his shoulder, Hanlen winked at them. “In future, Neela,” he said, “perhaps your descriptions of your Commander shouldn’t go back and forth between ‘extremely complimentary’ and ‘purposefully vague.’ Makes a person suspicious.  _ Especially _ when you start using his first name instead of his title.”

Lanyla blushed, her cheeks going pink between the gold lines of her vallaslin. “Creators… does this mean everyone knows already? I’d hoped to tell them in person…”

“Don’t worry, Neela,” said Hanlen. “Secrets are always safe with me, remember? Besides,” he added, turning away with a laugh, “I wasn’t about to be the one to tell my mothers that their favorite niece is involved with a former  _ Templar _ , of all people. I happen to like my hide where it is, thanks.”


End file.
